


The breath between us both

by Amymel86



Series: nights not understood [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, Political Marriage, making an heir, or is it???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 20:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16374569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: She wonders who he’s thinking of to be able to perform the act? Wonders if, at some point, another woman’s name will ghost on one of his panted breaths as it tickles her skin.





	The breath between us both

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Titania_Queen_of_the_Fairies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titania_Queen_of_the_Fairies/gifts).



> This has been in my notes on my phone for aaaaages - so I thought - why not post?

She watches him. She thinks maybe she shouldn’t, but she does all the same. She’s fascinated by the faces he makes, and because he has his eyes closed to exactly what it is he’s doing, and who he’s doing it with, Sansa feels quite free to watch him without embarrassment.

His mouth hangs open a little, and every so often his teeth sink into the plump of his lower lip. His forehead creases in concentration, drawing his brows together sometimes. Occasionally Jon’s eyes will flutter open and look down upon her. Sansa would try for a smile, reassuring him that she is quite fine, that their coupling is not bothering her, he is not conjuring nightmares of another.

Jon promptly closes his eyes again.

She wonders who he’s thinking of to be able to perform the act? Wonders if, at some point, another woman’s name will ghost on one of his panted breaths as it tickles her skin.

They’re getting there. There has been progress. Of course, at first, this duty of theirs had been terribly awkward. It still is - to a degree, but they seem somewhat used to each other now, here, in the landscape of their marriage bed.

Jon has once confessed that he was not sure if she should prefer him to hurry up and get on with it - get the activity done with and out of the way so that he would not bother her for longer than necessary, or, if he should be slow and gentle, so as not to conjure memories unwanted.

“Gentle,” she had told him after weighing the options, deciding that she would rather Jon be on top of her half the night than be reminded of certain horrors. “I should like you to be gentle.”

Maester Tarly has given them an almond oil for Sansa’s use when they first spoke of doing their duty and furthering House Stark. When administered to the proper area, it helped greatly to relieve the pressure for Sansa to feel aroused, and for Jon to provide said arousal.

Sansa’s only half ashamed to admit that she finds she has no use of the oil now.

Her hands gently rest on his sides, over the nightshirt that he keeps on as an added barrier for them both. She can feel the flex of his muscles as he moves, wondering what it would be like to have skin upon skin instead.

As he continues, sweat beads and clings to his hairline, breaths become harsher in her ear and his hips begin to take on a slight rhythm of desperation. “Are you alright?” he’ll pant, ragged but still so careful.

Sansa always nods. Although ‘alright’ may not be the way she might describe the feeling of the moment. Though she’ll never admit to it, this her favourite part of their coupling - when he starts to lose himself.

He’ll release his seed with a strangled groan buried in her hair and Sansa will allow herself to believe that he’s stifling a cherished sigh of her name as his tensed muscles relax under her palms. She likes to stroke up and down his back until he’s ready to rise from her bed and wonders if he appreciates the gesture.

One day, Sansa fancies that he might stay, that she could curl up into him and he’ll hold her as they whisper tender things to each other into the night.

They’re not able to do that just yet though as Jon places a pale kiss to her cheek and leaves her body and her bed.

He dresses quickly. Sansa pretends that her canopy is much more interesting.

“Tomorrow?” Jon will ask. He always asks if he’ll be welcome in her bed again.

Sansa confirms with a small nod. “Tomorrow.”

His smile is small and brief - but it was there, for a moment, and it all was for her.

He’ll then do as he always does andpull her furs up to her chin, leaning down to softly cup her cheek in his rough hand and press his lips to her forehead. “Get some rest,” he’ll tell her. “Goodnight, wife.”

And then he’ll leave.

**Author's Note:**

> I might make this a two-parter and have Jon’s thoughts of the coupling too


End file.
